Heading back to his lab and worrying that Remy now had yet another reason to avoid him, Hank walked the quiet corridors of the lower levels to stand at the door to the medilab. Looking in, he found Warren sitting up in his bed and talking with Betsy as he ate his first solid meal in days, a newspaper not far from hand. He strode into the room, quickly taking in the readings on all the monitors. He nodded his approval as he noted them all down on the chart, before acknowledging either of his attentive audience with a smile.
"You're doing very well, Warren." He grinned, a bright flash of teeth. "I want you doing gentle exercise today, walking only. No rushing, no flying, no leaving the house. If you start to feel pressure around your chest, or any dizziness or nausea, I want you to come straight back here, and call me on the way down. Don't wait until you're here to call me. Otherwise, you're free to go. I want you back at noon tomorrow so I can do a follow up." Hank silently blessed being able to stay in the same house as his patients, so that he could release them from his lab long before any other doctor might be able to and not fear any sudden change in their condition.
Watching Warren's slow progress out of his lab, Hank nodded to himself. Another customer well served. He chuckled to himself.
He had only just settled in his office when the phone on his desk rang, registering an internal call.
"Hey, Hank?" Logan's voice. "Ya think ya could come back up here a second?"
o
Remy was still sitting on the bed, as he had been when he had left, but the bandage was gone from around his head and the curtains were open. The big red filters were in place over the window, giving the room a deep red tint. Remy physically flinched as Hank walked through the door, but held still and looked up, trying to haze over the detail of Hank's fur.
Hank resisted the urge to gasp as Remy looked up, approaching quickly and forgetting about Remy's discomfort. With one hand on Remy's shoulder, he turned his chin towards the window so that he could take a better look at his eyes.
At first Hank had thought that his pupils had shrunk down to near nothing with the brightness of the red light, but now he could see that his eyes no longer held that deep red glow at all.
"My goodness."
"Yeah, that's what I said." Logan smirked. Remy had to snort at that.
"Forgive me." He murmured, his mind already racing with the implications. "I suspect this is linked to the sudden expansion of your kinesthetic powers."
"Y' have th' nicest names fo' what I am, Henri." Remy said, wryly. Hank ignored him.
"I've just never seen mutant powers redistributed in this way. Though I have to admit I've never seen anyone in your position before."
"So, dis is it den. No more chances fo' recov'ry?" Blank face, poker face. As if he didn't care either way.
"I wouldn't say that. Certainly not. This is simply your body adapting to the constraints placed upon it. I have nowhere near enough information to confirm any diagnosis. Your optical physiology is unique, save for your sister's, and I have been able to discover so very little about it. Have you tested whether or not you are still photosensitive?"
"I don'…" Remy's face hardened. He turned his attention to Logan, the turning of his head habitual. "Th' bat'room has a window."
Logan got the hint, disappearing through the door, leaving Remy to realize that so long as there was nothing in motion between him and another moving object, he could see it just as well. He watched Logan through the wall as he headed towards the window, opening the blinds. He looked back to where he knew the door was, trying to work out whether or not it was open. It was becoming obvious that he could focus his attentions on one thing in high detail and shut out almost everything else that was going on around him, or just let himself be open to the bulk of details all around him. Neither involved actually turning his head in the right direction, though habit demanded it of him. He couldn't find the door, open or closed. He scowled, until he realized Logan was leaning out of the bathroom and looking at him expectantly. Which meant the door was open, and the window's blinds too.
"Not'in'." He confirmed what Hank and Logan could already see. A deep weight settled in his stomach, and he felt Logan's wrench even as he heard his sigh. Hank could use all the pretty words he wanted, he knew what this meant for him.
"Ah well, this will save you the problem of changing the lenses, at least." Hank suggested, his voice overly cheerful. "I would ask that you come down to my lab at some point so that I might run a few tests to gauge the implications of this occurrence, but I know quite well that you are less than likely to comply. When you are ready, we can discuss contacting Leadenhall - the school we talked about - and arranging your application." Quietly excusing himself, Hank left Logan and Remy alone once more.
o
"Bin tol' t' get some exercise, Stormy." Remy grinned at his long-time friend as she settled beside him on the bed. "Bin awhile since we sparred, hehn?"
"It has, Remy, but are you sure?" Ororo asked, worry evident in her tone. "You're only just out of bed." Remy flexed his fingers one at a time, wincing as damaged skin tightened across his knuckles. His 'Stormy' was one of the few people he would not hide his vulnerability from and he would expect the same openness from her, it was part of what made their relationship what it was.
"Gotta start somewhere." He answered eventually.
Storm's grin shone through into her voice as she replied, "Then there is nothing I would like more, Remy. And please stop calling me by that ridiculous name."
o
Ororo left only long enough to retrieve her own bo staff from her room and to check with Hank as to when she should force Remy to stop, knowing he would continue much beyond his own limits if allowed to. She loved him dearly, but sometimes he had to be watched to stop him from hurting himself. She knew the Goddess had delivered her to him for a bigger reason than her own safety in her time of vulnerability. He needed protection, now more than ever, and she was more than willing to give it.
"Come then, my friend. Let us see if, even in this state, you are able to defeat me without effort as you used to."
"You've beaten me b'fo'." Remy replied, laughing as he attempted to sooth her ego. She took his hand as he held it out to her, wrapping it securely in the crook of her own elbow as they made their way out of the door, picking up the two wooden practice staffs from the doorway as they went.
"Maybe once or twice, but I have a distinct suspicion that it wasn't my own skill that allowed me to succeed on those occasions." Ororo said chidingly. "I believe one of those was due to a broken wrist that you had 'forgotten' to inform me about." Remy had the good grace to look a little sheepish.
"Yeah, but…" Remy tensed and it took Ororo only a moment to discern the reason. Warren was standing at the end of the corridor they had been walking down, looking at them both with a kind of distain in his eyes. She had no doubt Remy knew exactly what the man's emotions were and she could feel him shrinking back with every step she took forward.
"Stand tall, Remy. Stand tall." She murmured to him before they came into ear-shot. Projecting her love with all her might; Ororo felt Remy's stance change - not confrontational, simply strong. She prayed Worthington would keep his mouth shut and not spoil that temporary strength the she had been able to lend him.
"Don't worry, LeBeau, girls love a vulnerable man."
It was too much to ask really, she mused, flinching at the sound of the other man's voice. Some things even the Goddess had no control over. Remy's body language faltered, but he continued striding on in his long-legged gait. It became questionable who was leading whom.
"Running LeBeau? Well, now I know who hasn't been getting any lately... you should really be careful..." Ororo's arm slipped from Remy's and, uncertain, he froze, not wanting to stick around Warren longer than need be, but not trusting his own knowledge of the building to walk on blind. Perhaps, if he had been focused on his own position from his room he'd have been more confident but he had been talking with Ororo, allowing her to distract him. As a trained thief he cursed his distraction, he would never have let it slip so badly once upon a time. But his extraordinary night vision had made him lazy in mapping his surroundings and keeping track of every step and movement. If you could see in just about any situation – what was the point?
Vertigo and panic began washing over him, one boosting the other until both were completely out of control and he was fighting the urge to curl up and hide from the darkness. The spinning of the cold blank walls around him stopped him from focusing on Ororo and Warren who were not so far away. A far distant part of him was amused that he would have settled for even Warren's presence right then to stabilize himself. A deep void opened at his feet, and he fought the unreasonable feeling that the floor was dropping away around him, leaving him on an island of solid ground in some great abyss.
A deep wrench in his gut left him with the sickening thought: this is it. This is your life. Forever.
Forever.
o
The feeling of Ororo's hand on his arm a lifetime later brought him back to himself.
"Remy?" The word was flooded with Ororo's concern. He must look as bad as he felt. "Do you want to go back to your room?"
"Non, I'll be fine. What happen' t' th' birdbrain?" He asked, wanting to draw attention away from himself for a moment and genuinely curious as to where the weather goddess had disappeared to and why Warren's tirade had stopped so abruptly.
"He's taking a moment's rest. Though he may wake with a small headache." She sounded tremendously pleased with herself and not at all guilty.
"Y' knocked him out?"
"You see, my hand… it slipped." She claimed innocently. Not an ounce of guilt. Remy couldn't help but smile too. "Are you sure you're OK, Remy?" She asked, suddenly serious. "You're looking quite pale."
"Jus' a li'l dizzy. T'ought vertigo was fo' heights, no' fo' mansion corridors."
"Do you feel disorientated? Nauseous?" She pulled away and he almost moaned at the loss of the contact. "I'll get Hank." She continued, oblivious. He caught her hand before she could step away.
"Stay." His voice cracked and he hated himself for it.
"Of course." And she was immediately back at his side, holding him, grounding him. Slowly the ground returned to its usual position and he brought his breathing back under control. "Better?" She asked as he sighed deeply. He nodded, not trusting his voice straight away. The earlier betrayal had left him wary. She took his arm again and began to walk back towards his room.
"Where' y' goin' Stormy? We're supposed t' be doin' some sparrin'."
"You don't expect me to believe that you are still in a fit state to spar?"
"Y' know me, a'ways up fo' more." He hoped his grin didn't give away the lie.
"You've just had a vertigo attack in the middle of the hallway, Remy."
"I've seen you get claustrophobia in th' middle o' danger room sims an' not call halt. All dat's differ'nt here is dat… I'm no' scared o' small spaces." She heard the unspoken words as soon as he realized what he was about to say and changed them. She looked up at him, wishing she could meet his alien eyes, to see some truth in them.
"What are you afraid of my friend?" She asked softly.
"Bein' alone. In th' dark." His words were whispered. Barely there. As though the less they were spoken the less true they would become. Ororo looked on in wonder.
"But you are a thief, you live in darkness. And alone."
"Dis t'ief's eye's ain' normal t'ough. An' when de only darkness y' see all y' life is th' bit behind y' eyelids, it becomes a diff'rent place."
"I never knew…"
"Don' t'ink I did... Nev'r bin in true dark b'fo'." There was a hesitation in the sentence that made Ororo curious, but if Remy didn't want to say something then he wouldn't be convinced.
"Then we shall simply have to ensure you are never alone." Ororo smiled softly.
"I can' ask y' t' babysit me, 'Ro. Y' have ot'er t'ings t' do. I'm gonna be in Xavier's school…" He snorted. "…his ot'er school, befo' long."
"What 'other things' do I have to do? There is no crisis looming, so missions will be rare and most will not need my expertise. The only time I am busy with anything other than meditation and the care of my plants is my danger room sessions, which seem to take place long before you awake each morning. And we have at least a week before you leave for Leadenhall." She took a long breath. "Remy, I enjoy your company. Please do not deprive me of it under some unnecessary sense of independence."
Remy chuckled. "So now I'm 'deprivin' y' of m' company'?"
"Are you sure you feel up to sparring? I will sit with you even if you choose not to go through with this." Her voice soft and low.
"Oui, Stormy, I'm sure." And he found he did, desperate for some entertainment after a day of boredom.
"If you use that cursed nickname one more time, by the Goddess, I'll leave you here to find your own way back to your room." She was teasing and he knew it, but he couldn't help but tense a little at the threat.
"Ok, ok, Ororo," he enunciated her name heavily, "Now lets go, befo' de bird brain wakes up an' tries t' accuse Remy o' hittin' him." They laughed together and Ororo couldn't remember any sound she'd heard that lifted her spirits so.